


Batcow vs Tim Drake: Dawn of Justice

by jor77



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jor77/pseuds/jor77
Summary: "Moo" mooed Batcow.





	

"Bruce!" Tim roared as he stormed down the hall into Bruce's study.

"What is it now?" sighed Bruce.

"That _thing_ ate my fucking Red Robin costume _again_." fumed Tim. "Damian's definitely training it to--"

"I am not training _her_ to do anything, Drake." butted in Damian, entering the room. "Maybe Batcow dislikes you so much because you're a useless cretin, you useless cretin."

"Stop!" yelled Bruce. "Family meeting in the dining room. 15 minutes."

 

"This is unnecessary." bitched Damian. "Why can't we all just accept that Drake is wrong and move on?" Damian and Tim sat opposite Bruce, who was exasperated to say the very least, at the dinner table.

"Bruce," began Tim. "that cow has been a serious problem for a long time now. It moos in the middle of the night when I'm trying to sleep. It has eaten _three_ of my costumes. Not to mention the, uh... fart and shit situation. Alfred has enough to do in the day without having to shovel cow dung."

"Ok Tim, you made your case. Now Damian gets to speak. Damian, why should we keep Batcow?" asked Bruce.

"I find Drake a nuisance on this household too, should we hold a meeting to decide if _he_ is a true member of our family? No, because he just is. Family means having to put up with people or cows you don't like. Batcow is _mine_ and I will not let any of you take her away from me."

"You make a compelling argument, Damian." said Bruce.

"No no no no no!" interrupted Tim. "You always do this Bruce. You can't keep letting Damian get his way. How many times have you had to clean cow dung off the hood of the batmobile?"

"...Well, never. Alfred always does it--"

"OH GOD DAMMIT!" shouted Tim, storming out of the room.

"What an emotionally unstable young man." commented Damian. "One might say he is very... moooooooody."

"...You're banned from speaking with Dick for a week." muttered Bruce.

 

"Ugh, I just hate that fricking animal so much!" complained Tim to a decidedly indifferent Jason. Jason sat on his couch, not even looking up from his Philip K. Dick novel, _'The Man Who Was Not A Man But A Skull With A Monocle'_. Tim paced up and down Jason's living room, hands balled into fists, breathing loudly through his clenched teeth.

"Holy cow." deadpanned Jason. "You've really worked yourself up there, Timbo Slice. You sure you're not just crying over spilled milk? In my opinion, you're udderly overreacting to the situation."

"THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" yelled Tim.

Jason slowly closed his book, set it on the coffee table and brought his gaze up to meet Tim's. "How fucking dare you." said Jason in mock-outrage. "You are a 20-year-old sort-of-man who is having a hissy fit because your 12-year-old brother owns a cow that is mean to you... And you have the _audacity_ to come into _my_ home and tell me that that isn't funny. Get out, sir! Get out I say!"

"Why did I think you would be of any help?" sighed Tim. "Oh by the way, it turns out the skull has two monocles. Enjoy your fucking book."

"You're lucky I've already read this one or I would've put a bullet pasteurize."

"...That was actually pretty good. Well done." conceded Tim.

"Thank you."

"Also, fuck off."

 

"You think you're hot shit don't you?" asked Tim.

"...Moo." replied Batcow. It was just the two of them in the cave. Tim was _right_ up in this cow's grill as she stared vacantly at him.

"I hate you so much. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you're gone from this house fore--"

"What are you doing?" inquired Damian as he walked down the stairs.

Oh, this was insane. Tim looked like an insane person right now.

"I, uh, I--"

"Get away from her!" scolded Damian, rushing to Batcow's side and embracing her. "You ok, girl? Did Drake hurt you?"

"I didn't hurt her. I was just..." Tim searched for the words that would accurately describe what he was doing while also not making him sound like an absolute maniac. "...giving her a piece of my mind." Nope, they weren't it.

"Moo." mooed Batcow.

 

Tim and Damian both sat at the dinner table, arms crossed and frowning. Bruce sat opposite them once again. "This has to end." he asserted.

"He was the one who--" complained Tim and Damian in unison, pointing at the other.

"I don't care. I'm sick of you two constantly bickering about Batcow. I've made a decision."

"Finally." Damian turned to Tim. "I could help you pack your bags if you'd like, Drake."

"Batcow has to go."

Damian's face became a cocktail of every negative emotion in existence. "...What?" he uttered. Tim shifted in his seat, uncomfortable yet delighted yet expecting an outbreak of violence at any second. He had experienced several actual bomb diffusions that were less tense than this.

"I know she means a lot to you Damian--" sympathized Bruce.

"Then why would you take her from me?" growled Damian, hot rage-tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm not--" Bruce stopped himself. "If you truly care about her -- which I have no doubt you do -- you'll want what's best for her. Living here is not what's best for her. She needs to be on a farm, somewhere with open fields and long grass that isn't cut by Alfred every few days. She needs to be around other cows."

"Then buy other cows!" ordered Damian, lip quivering.

"And who will take care of them, Damian?" countered Bruce. "Alfred. One cow is enough of an undertaking for the poor man... Look, you know I'll find her a good home. In fact, I have the perfect place in mind."

 

Clark, Tim and Bruce leaned against the fence surrounding a field at Kent Farm. "I'm starting to feel kinda bad for him now." admitted Tim.

"Don't." said Bruce. "It took a _lot_ of persuading but he finally accepts that this is what's best for her."

In the field, Damian was saying goodbye to Batcow. His forehead was pressed against hers and he was saying something that neither Bruce nor Tim could make out. Clark didn't feel the need to pry and use his super-hearing either. This was clearly a private moment.

After a while, Damian gave her one last hug and walked towards the fence, rubbing tears from his eyes (a fact that he would vehemently deny later). 

"You can visit her anytime." assured Clark as Damian climbed the fence. "Don't worry, Ma and Pa will take good care of her."

"They better, remember that I have access to Kryptonite." warned Damian.

"We better get going." stated Bruce.

"See ya, guys." said Clark, walking towards the farmhouse. "I've got to go help Ma set the table for dinner".

"Mind if I hang back a bit?" asked Tim. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"Sure. Just don't be long." told Bruce.

As Bruce and Damian headed to the limo, Tim headed into the field of cows. "Hey." he said, once he reached Batcow. "I know we've... had our differences lately. I just wanna say... I don't know. Sorry, I guess." Tim held out his hand for some reason... for like, a handshake... with a cow. "Friends?"

Batcow nuzzled Tim's hand with her head. Tim let out a soft chuckle. "Aw, you're not so bad after a-- AGH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" screeched Tim as Batcow bit his hand. He stormed back towards the fence, clutching his bleeding hand. "You're going to make a great quarter pounder you god damn bitch cow! I regret nothing! NOTHING!" The other cows in the field looked on in a sort of confused indifference. "I hate cows." Tim muttered to himself.

"Moo." mooed Batcow.


End file.
